The young black boy
Stood waiting in the dark
He watched the rich woman arrive alone
With her white, fleshy arms,
Slightly sagging breasts
And middle-aged flabby body,
He watched her jog
Her breasts moving rhythmically
As she receded
He saw a world moving away from him,
Not noticing him, not aware that he stood there
Pulsating his youth,
Dark upon dark, invisible.
He realized the distance between the two worlds
A touch could perhaps break this brutal world
It could happen... violently.
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